Beyond the Stars
by Stephantom
Summary: Father and son struggle to move on after a mother's death. This is about the Persian!


Disclaimer: I don't own any forms of Phantom (well, except Phanphiction.) Credit goes to Leroux, and Kay. Also, I must mention C.S. Lewis because I practically quoted him on one line and some of the ideas are probably his influence too. And so, a great sweeping bow to all three of them (and especially to Jack - because he just deserves it. (Jack meaning Lewis))  
  
Summary: There is no Erik in this story. Erik is off somewhere else, probably about 18. This is a short story about Nadir and his family. He might be really out of character, especially around the beginning of the end because I found myself rambling off in tangents, and I'm sorry. I don't know why my Nadir turned out to be a philosopher, and I'm not sure why. I am kinda unsure about this phic, it wasn't exactly what I intended to do, but I just went with it. I dunno. Please give me some feedback. (Also, I have still not been able to get my hands on the Kay version, so I don't know if I have the Khan family's timeline screwed up or what. Any information would be appreciated). ___________________________________________________________________  
  
It was a warm, clear night and a soft breeze was gently rustling the leaves of bushes in the garden. The Daroga of Mazanderan stood, a solitary silhouette etched against a backdrop of distant mountains lining a midnight blue sky. Stars filled the heavens, like a million tiny candles floating in the darkness. But all the young man could think as he stared up at the celestial orbs was this; there could be nothing more certain that in all those vast times and spaces, if he was allowed to search them, he would never find her. She was gone. Dead. She was never coming back. His wife, his other half, had slipped into the waters beyond comprehension, had gone where he could not follow, leaving him to wait and stare into the empty crevices of space, alone.  
  
Nadir Khan sighed quietly, a strained, desperate and forlorn sound that fell easily into the air amid the echoing chirps of crickets. It had been about a year since she had passed, and he felt for the most part that he had accepted it and recovered. But what did recovery mean exactly? An amputee could quite conceivably recover from an operation, but he would never regain his leg. He would always be a cripple.  
  
Nadir could practically hear Rookheya chiding him for brooding into the late night, pining away for her like some strange and distant goddess. Yet even when she had yet stood beside him, her bantering protests had never stopped him from worshipping her. In fact, it only made him love her more. And it was so easy to immerse himself in her, making idols of memories. A thousand images of her flooded through his mind, the sound of her laugh, the way she would silently reach out and gently touch his arm when she was upset, the way her hair seemed black as coal, but when you looked closer, you could see that it was rich with browns and golds...  
  
She was never coming back.  
  
"Papa?"  
  
Nadir blinked out of his anguished reverie and turned abruptly to find a little face gazing up at him questioningly. His stern features softened as he looked down at the small boy at his side.  
  
"What are you doing out of your bed at this hour, small one?" he asked with a wry smile.  
  
The child smiled impishly and shrugged his shoulders up almost to his ears. Nadir smiled back automatically and kneeled down to eye level with his son. "Where's Darius?"  
  
"Sleeping," answered Reza.  
  
"Ah," said Nadir. "And where should you be?"  
  
Reza grinned guiltily. "Sleeping?"  
  
His father grunted in confirmation, then stood and tousled the boy's dark hair, preparing to lead him inside.  
  
"What were you looking at?"  
  
Nadir stopped, sighed, and raised his gaze upward once more. "The stars."  
  
"Can I look too?"  
  
"Of course," he replied.  
  
A minute of comfortable silence passed as father and son stood, solemnly observing the night sky.  
  
"They're so pretty," the boy breathed at last, his young voice filled with the awe of a child. "How many are there?"  
  
"How many? Oh, more than you or I could count if we lived a thousand years, Reza," came the answer.  
  
The boy's eyes widened in amazement, then narrowed skeptically. "Are you sure? That's a lot of stars." Nadir chuckled and watched as his son craned his neck back as if trying to find a way to see the entire sky at once, bending his body back as far as he could. There was a moment of confusion as he began tipping to the side, and his arms flailed, panicking for a moment as he lost his balance, and then he was safe in his father's strong arms, and being lifted up and up, closer to those stars.  
  
Nadir settled Reza atop his shoulders, the boy's bare feet dangling against his chest, laughing quietly. He smiled in contentment, his entire being filled with love for this inquisitive little creature that was his son, his flesh and blood. How could he have thought himself alone? There was still another person on this earth that Rookheeya had been a part of--a person that was part of Rookheeya too. Sometimes it seemed she herself was looking out at him through those shining, dark, almond eyes.  
  
All of a sudden, little hands were gripping painfully at his neck, his face, his hair, as Reza attempted once again to maintain his balance whilst leaning backward to view the world upside-down.  
  
"Reza, you can't--Reza, stop that!" Nadir cried, laughing and struggling to detach the clutching fingers. He succeeded and held onto them firmly. "I can't hold you if you're going to grab me like that. Sit still."  
  
Reza giggled but obeyed and placed his hand within his father's larger one. His papa gave his hand a little squeeze and pulled it to his face for a quick kiss. "There doesn't look like that many stars, Papa," he stated, serious again.  
  
"That's because you can't see all of them."  
  
His forehead scrunched up as he squinted at the stars. "Why not?"  
  
"Because some of them are too far away."  
  
"Oh," he said quietly. Then, "How do you know they're there if you can't see them?"  
  
Nadir laughed at his persistence, then paused, considering his answer. "Because," he started slowly, then stopped and chewed his lip. He wasn't sure he knew. He sighed and began again. "There are some things you can't see with your eyes. Your eyes can deceive you. That tree you see over there?" he indicated, glancing up at Reza. "It looks small from here, doesn't it? But you know that if you get walk up to it, you'll see that it's actually much, much bigger than you. So the point is... you cannot decide what you do or do not believe based solely upon what you see."  
  
Reza frowned in deep concentration and rested his chin on the top of his father's head, still looking up at those twinkling white dots. "But what if... What if they just stop? What's there then?"  
  
"So many big questions for such a little person," said Nadir with mock severity. Reza grinned and turned his head to the side, feeling his father's soft, wavy hair under his head like a pillow. His blinked stubbornly as his eyelids began to grow heavy, until it was no use, and his eyes shut.  
  
Nadir sobered rapidly as silence fell again. What would start where the stars ended? What could possibly exist outside of a finite universe? Possibly there would be other universes, but when they too ended? Nothingness? A great big Something in the middle of Nothing.. How could that be? Why would Something have ever come to exist out of Nothing? No, no, the world--life--existence.. was not merely something - it was Everything. It was all there was. Everything forever and ever...  
  
And yet, perhaps the stars did end, in a way. Not on this plane, no; they stretched out to infinity, he was sure--an unending world in every direction... or at least, every direction he knew. But if a painting could come alive... It would find that it could move not only left right, up, and down, but forward and back, and all the degrees between.  
  
And with the nothingness having no reason and no means to bare little somethings, the only option left was for everything to be one, great united All. And All was forever. In directions he had yet to experience.  
  
She was still there, somewhere... whatever there really was.  
  
A high-pitched yawn came into consciousness and Nadir shook himself. What was he doing? Reza needed sleep. He must have been getting cold in his thin nightclothes. He eased the boy off his shoulders and into his arms, the arms of his son automatically reaching up to hug his neck. Nadir headed inside with his precious burden, reached the child's chamber and placed him gently under the covers.  
  
Reza murmured sleepily, then opened his eyes as his father tucked him in.  
  
"Papa, is Mother in the stars?" he asked quietly.  
  
Nadir smiled sadly. "No," he said. "She is beyond them."  
  
"Oh," whispered Reza. "Is it as pretty where she is as the stars?"  
  
"Yes," replied his father. "Even prettier."  
  
Reza smiled. "Will I go there too?"  
  
"Yes," answered Nadir, leaning over to kiss his forehead. "But not for a very long time."  
  
"I love you, Papa."  
  
"I love you too. Go to sleep."  
  
The daroga blew out the candle set atop Reza's nightside-table, and withdrew quietly from the room.  
  
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The parts I took from C.S. Lewis were the line about not being to find his wife anywhere "in all the vast times and spaces", and the idea of the amputee metaphor. 


End file.
